"The poems are good, and so are the words!"
Zhong Zi smiled and praised: "It's wonderful!"
He put his hands behind his back and prepared to climb the mountain, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a crack in the monument.
"Is the monument cracked?"
Zhong Zizheng's smile faded and he whispered: "The inscription clearly shows the saint's past, but the power is not enough to suppress it. Could it be..."
Uh-huh!
Turning his right hand, a calligraphy map appeared on the palm of his hand, and his eyes widened: "The rebellion of Tianyao is in Pingzhou Academy!"
"In order to solve the demonic chaos, the official contribution of the inscriptions and monuments is indispensable. This poem is very, very good!"
Zhong Zizheng was moved.
Then he discovered again that there seemed to be a poem on the back of the monument.
"What else? If you write two poems on the monument, this Pingzhou Academy will have two places to participate!"
The Zhenguo Holy Academy holds a holy meeting every year, and all deans of the academy enrolled in Dayan must attend unless there are special circumstances.
However, if there are more than two poems on the academy monument, the corresponding number of places can be increased.
First, he is optimistic about the prospects of college bachelors.
The second is the Holy Court’s recognition of the Academy.
For scholars, it is a great honor to be able to listen to the Yasheng in person.
Just like the common people meeting the current Emperor Dayan in Fengtian Hall.
Zhong Zi was walking around behind the monument when he suddenly felt a sharp edge coming towards him.
"oh?"
Zhong Zizheng flicked his sleeves and robe to suppress the sharpness. He stared at the poems on the monument with a slightly moved expression.
"Ten years of sharpening a sword, the frost blade has never been tested."
"Today I will show you, who will have any injustice?"
"What a quatrain poem, at least it is a poem by Mingzhou, a man of great talent. This handwriting is the same as the academic poem just now, both written by Fang Qingxue..."
Zhong Zizheng was in a state of shock. He brushed his fingers over the poem on the inscription and said sternly: "Fang Qingxue participated in the palace examination this year. She is probably the top scholar. She has written two poems about Mingzhou at the age of twenty... She has the qualifications of a great Confucian and is a candidate for a saint!" "
Subsequently.
He once again focused his attention on the poem on the inscription, and chuckled: "This poem is really interesting and very arrogant. I have to have a good chat with her next time I meet her!"
"Hello!"
At this moment, several bachelors came down from the academy and saw Zhong Zizheng in front of the monument. They quickly shouted: "What are you doing? This is the monument of our Pingzhou Academy. Outsiders are not allowed to copy it!"
"Feel sorry!"
Zhong Zizheng grinned, took two steps back with a smile, and said to several academy scholars: "Are some of them disciples of Pingzhou Academy? I am..."
"You are the family member who received the letter. Come here to express your condolences!" A disciple said first.
"Condolences?"
Zhong Zizheng guessed that Pingzhou Academy encountered demonic chaos and many scholars died.
He then thought... Anyway, he came to see the secrets of Pingzhou Academy.
By the way, I would like to express my condolences to the scholar who passed away during the demonic chaos, which can be regarded as a token of the Holy Academy's sincerity.
"right!"
Zhong Zizheng nodded.
In this remote place, he decided not to reveal his identity, so as not to disturb the scholars in Nanxiang Mansion.
After all, as a disciple of the Sub-Saint of Zhenguo Holy Academy, his status is too noble for scholars.
I am afraid that the deans of the other two academies in Nanxiang Prefecture would have to travel thousands of miles to pay their respects.
"Xu Cheng, take this family member to the academy mourning hall to express condolences, and arrange a place to stay..."
Wang Chun said to the bachelor beside him.
"yes!"
A young bachelor came out and said to Zhong Zizheng: "Uncle, please!"
"Thank you!"
Zhong Zizheng nodded slightly and followed the bachelor up the stone steps of the academy.
…
In a small courtyard near the foot of the mountain.
Li Wenbo was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a fan and fanning it. When he saw Lin Yi suddenly woke up, he quickly asked with concern: "Master, you woke up, are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine!"
Lin Yi shook his head, and then said: "The elegiac couplet is not enough, I will write a few more and you can send them over!"
He was about to get out of bed, but as soon as he sat up, he felt dizzy.
"Master, that's enough!"
Li Wenbo quickly stepped forward to support him and said: "If you take out any of these elegiac couplets, you can offer sacrifices to heaven and earth, and to their spirits in heaven!"
"Perhaps they have already seen the elegiac couplets I wrote... and they don't want me to take any more risks. That's enough!"
After the scholar dies, there is a certain probability that the soul will stay in the world without cultivating the soul.
However, no one can see the soul, not even high-level scholars who have cultivated the soul.
But according to legend, during burial, the emotional elegiac couplets and eulogies resonate with each other, and there is a high probability that the soul of the deceased will appear.
Let them see their relatives and friends for the last time, and die in bliss with peace of mind!
certainly.
This is just a legend!
Lin Yi sighed. This was not hypocrisy, but awe of the deceased.
They were both bachelors of the academy, and their words to Master Lin during his lifetime are still in his ears.
After death, are you still reluctant to write several elegiac couplets?
"When they are buried, I will give them a ride!" Lin Yi said.
"good!"
Li Wenbo breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Lin Yidao: "Just take a good rest! You wrote those elegiac couplets, and your talent is overflowing. You still have to take the provincial examination, gain fame, and be promoted to the eighth level of destiny!"
"Otherwise, if I write any more poems or articles, my body will collapse!"
Lin Yi nodded and said: "After this incident, master the literary skills and set off to the capital of Nanxiang Prefecture!"
Li Wenbo smiled and said: "The time is almost right. If I am promoted to the eighth rank and give birth to Wen Gong, I will no longer have to worry about my talents spilling over!"
Lin Yidao: "It's a hurdle to establish your destiny at the eighth level!"
The eighth grade of establishing a destiny is to ask scholars to make great aspirations, which is nothing more than to study for the people of the world.
Reading to slay demons.
Sincerity and sincerity resonated with literary principles, and the literary palace naturally came into being.
But Haoran's righteousness is different. It's not that simple to establish a destiny.
"..."
Li Wenbo was silent for a moment, then smiled and said: "It must be no problem for me!"
Lin Yi smiled.
Li Wenbo didn't disturb Lin Yi's rest anymore. He stood up and said, "Well, have a good rest. I'll go down to help first... If nothing else, I'll have to receive the relatives who came to express their condolences later!"
"good!"
Li Wenbo left the room, Lin Yi put on a Confucian shirt jacket and walked out of the room to get some air.
From time to time, there are sounds of crying and bursts of mourning and music on the mountain.
Lin also felt this scene, and suddenly felt something: "The fallen leaves of foreign trees, a person alone at night under the cold light!"
"good!"
An excited voice with a bit of joy rang out, and Zhong Zi was walking over quickly.
The academy bachelor who was leading the way quickly shouted: "Uncle, you are going in the wrong direction, the mourning hall is over here!"
"???"
Lin Yi turned around and saw Zhong Zi walking up to him, looking him up and down.
"Well, he is a talented person, he can compose poetry, and he is still young. Not bad!"
Zhong Zi is a poetry lover. When he heard the poem Lin Yi read just now, he immediately felt a strong liking for it.
Lin Yi saw that Zhong Zi was wearing a Confucian shirt, so he cupped his hands and asked, "Who is the senior?"
"For those of you who are not seniors, just call me Uncle Zhong!"
Zhong Zi was facing the scholar who could write poems without any pretensions, but then he frowned and said: "Huh? How long have you been studying, how come you only have the ninth level of enlightenment? This qualification is not very good!"
